


up the ivy

by lesvov



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Blood, Depressed Newt, Depression, Gen, POV First Person, Platonic Relationships, Suicide Attempt, them platonic minho ... being supportive n shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13872159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesvov/pseuds/lesvov
Summary: I was… I am just so, so tired. Tired of being trapped in here, of my mind not handling the mental strain, of the unbearable amount of haunting thoughts.What else was I supposed to do?





	up the ivy

I can feel the cold in every cell of my body, under my clothes, in my lungs, piercing through my eyelids. It stops tears from falling, somehow, even though the pain in my leg and spine tries its hardest to break me.

Even though, I don’t say a word.

I move as little as possible, knowing how trying to get up had ended. After a while my leg starts to feel unpleasantly numb and heavy; in fact, my whole body does. But, I am not granted the unconsciousness that I crave. Some time later of lying here in silence, in the poll of my blood, it finally gets to me. The adrenaline wears off and my mind is left on its own. Slowly, I get flooded with heavy thoughts, realizing how much of a failure I am.

Finally, tears slowly fall down my face, as I start crawling through pain, seeking out anything I could use to finish myself off.

Such a fucking failure.

I think about how angry Minho and Alby will be when they find me. I don’t look at my lower body, not once, but I’m not stupid. I’m still breathless, back pain making me want to curl up and never move again. I try to not focus on my leg. At first, I thought it was only broken, but after I saw blood I realized. Countless scratches on my hands from climbing could never result in that, obviously.

After a few minutes (seconds? hours?) of trying to crawl towards the forest – which I decide is the best place to hide, or maybe find something to impale my body on or smash my skull with – I start sobbing audibly. I bite my lips to keep the sounds in; I don’t stop even after it draws blood. Maybe it’s stupid - my body crushing against the ground was louder than any sound I can make, but it could be mistaken with the Maze’s sounds. Me crying - not so much.

The mix of shock, desperation, and pain make my whole body shake. Soon my muscles strain so badly that I’m unable to move even if I tried.

My pathetic attempt at trying to run away from my failed suicide forces out more bitter tears. I can’t see anything through the blurred vision – merely a phantom of brightness on the horizon. As I close my eyes, my only wish is nothing but solitude. Being ignored completely, left on my own, trembling on the cold ground. Hopefully bleeding out to death.

I deserve it. I should be dead now.

The feeling of peace when making a decision to do it, the calmness I felt while falling – all gone as soon as my body hit the ground. It feels somewhat bitter; it got replaced so simply and quickly by a crushing anger. At myself, at the bloody ivy that didn’t reach nearly high enough on the walls, at the vision of friends finding me in such state.

What a bloody idiot. I could’ve just snuck out into the Maze, let myself be torn apart by a Griever and become a part of something we will never escape. The everyday routine of running around the corridors we knew perfectly, combined with my pitiable mind falling deep into depression months ago, led to many realizations.

We know everything there is to know about the Maze, yet we have no way out. There is no hope and it... well, wasn’t hard for me to give up. I was… I am just so, so tired. Tired of being trapped in here, of my mind not handling the mental strain, of the unbearable amount of haunting thoughts.

So tired…

It’s hard for me to tell the passage of time. I don't notice night turning into a morning, having closed my eyes. I’m not sure whether I can actually hear people in the distance or if it’s just my own thoughts. Isn’t it silly? My mind seems to have had melted almost. I don’t feel pain anymore, God bless, but the cold and exhaustion keep me from moving any more.

As my mind fades away some more, I think about the possible explanations. Excuses. I suddenly remember the letter I put into my jacket, but even reaching for it seems like too much of an effort. I only hope they won’t find it, allowing me to…

Lie. Lie to my friends… The idea seems pointless. But then again, I think about telling the truth and that makes me laugh. My suicidal thoughts are enough to make me hate myself already, I don’t need others to. I don’t want pity nor attention. 

The only thing I want is peace of mind - a break from the feeling of overwhelming hopelessness and loneliness.

Soon my wish gets granted; the reality escapes my grasp as I softly slip away into oblivion.

***

“We took care of the open fracture the best we could, but the bone is… uh. Severely broken, let’s say.”

“Oh fuck, that is a lot of blood…”

“Yeah. We… I hope he wakes up. But he’s in a really unstable state, he needs…”

“I’ll stay with him.”

“Minho…”

“I’m not running until he wakes up, understood? He needs to be watched. He… He will need me when he wakes up.”

“I know you’re his best friend, but-”

“Yes. I am. Sorry, Alby, but I don’t care. I’m not running.”

***

“I’m really sorry, Newt.”

The voice keeps repeating that. I don’t understand.

***

I wake up to a feeling of pain pulsating in my leg, ribcage, neck, head… Mostly my leg. I groan, opening my eyes. I lay my sight on, what I deduce, is a ceiling. I’m laid on my back; I’m on a bed. Inside.

Feelings of dread and anxiety flood my mind. I can’t think quite clearly; I quickly jump out of the bed, or so I thought. The attempt ends with me screaming in pain. My heart feels like it will break my weak ribs with its heavy, fast beats. The excruciating pain tears through my leg as I loudly fall on the floor, crying out.

“Newt?! For fuck's sake, I literally leave for one minute…”

I look up, noticing a familiar person through my tears. I feel both relief and shame, as Minho helps me get back into the bed. Instead of words only a scream leaves my mouth as the pain worsens.

I curse the Creators in my head; although they give us basic medical supplies, they never send painkillers. Fuckers.

A few minutes pass before I’m able to catch my breath and think about anything else than this bloody leg. Only now I realize Minho has been softly caressing my hair and forehead, trying to calm me down. I wipe the wetness from my cheeks and try to steady my breathing.

I glare at him; he’s staring and my heart breaks the moment I look into his eyes. He looks so broken and deeply worried. He’s watching me carefully, looking for any signs of pain.

“Minho,” I say quietly, my voice raspy, “are you okay?” He looks at me in disbelief. “You look like you haven’t slept. You should rest.”

A laugh escapes his mouth. He looks at me for a few seconds, eyes seem to be asking ‘are you serious?’.

“Dude. Newt. You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he sits on a chair next to my bed, sighing heavily. He lowers his voice to a sad, weak whisper. “We found the letter, you know.”

I think he doesn’t know how to approach this. Honestly, neither do I. I avoid his look and decide to not make a big deal out of this, despite the choking feeling in my chest that desperately wants to force cries out of me. I feel so unbelievably weak and pathetic. My body shakes.

“Oh. I-It’s alright. You shouldn't worry. Not a big deal, really.”

I lie to both of us. He’s starting to get irritated. He raises his voice.

“Newt, are you serious? You need to talk to me, man.”

I laugh bitterly to myself. He can’t even say it - so I do, for him.

“You meant to say 'explain why you tried to kill yourself’, right? What does it change, Minho? Will you stop me next time? Keep me locked up?”

The look of disbelief on his face grows, which confuses me a bit.

“What? No, why would I- Newt. Newt, listen. You’re my dear friend, alright? I care about you” he says in a serious voice, delicately putting his hand on my shoulder. “I want to understand so I can help you. Please. We can figure this out, okay? We can just talk.”

And so we talk. I break down and cry, but this time it’s for the best.

And we do; we figure it out - eventually.

***

“Uh, I don't know, did you try climbing the walls? Ivy looks like it could easily hold human's weight...” Thomas says, coming up with more and more possibilities of escaping the Maze. It's all been done before, though.

Including the climbing.

Suddenly I’m reminded of the pain in my leg; I shift, trying to stand in a more comfortable way.

“Yeah. But…” I pause and sigh. I try to turn the feeling of uncomfortableness down, then look at Thomas and smile sadly. “Climbing the ivy wouldn't get you anywhere. Trust me.” 

Thomas looks puzzled, but he doesn’t ask for an explanation. I’m grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> it be like that sometimes


End file.
